Muffin
by NeverGoesToSleep
Summary: Just a missing scene from season one wherein Gwen takes down some muffin thieves like a ninja xD Third person POV.


***Okay, so this came from some deep, dark vestige of my mind I'm unable to legitimately locate...but yeah, just a fun little oneshot set sometime in season one 'cause I'm old school like that xD***

Gwen sat on the rickety porch trying to ignore the cracking noise that was coming from underneath her feet. She smiled. After all, that cutie Trent should be back any minute with her muffin...he brought her one every morning. Gwen took that as a sign that he liked her...deep down somewhere in his soul...buried deeply...

"Gwen? Uh, you listening?" The voice of Trent himself brought her back to reality and she looked at him tentatively, eyes alert.

"Uh, sorry, no." She laughed nervously. Trent smiled at her and she swore she had never seen something more adorable.

"That's cool. But, um, I went to mess hall and they didn't have any muffins. Sorry." He laughed nervously this time as anger boiled up in Gwen.

"_What? No muffins? But I've had a muffin every single morning I've spent in this dump so far! I will have my muffin!" _With that determination planted firmly in Gwen's mind, she stood up, patting Trent on the shoulder and making sure to flash him her sweetest smile before storming over to that mess hall and getting her muffin. She didn't care if she had to steal it from that geek Cody or make a scene in front of Chef himself!

Finally at the mess hall, Gwen stormed in furiously, though no one seemed to notice. Her eyes scanned the room for the perpetrator, though no muffins caught her attention right away. Apparently they hadn't been put out that morning. Gwen slitted her eyes again, ready to go chew Chef out for this travesty when she spotted it. There, sitting all alone on a tiny plate at the Killer Bass table was _her_ muffin. It was brownish, with little crimson dots on it where the cranberries must be sticking out. Her eyes immediately shot up to the owner of the plate.

_"Of course," S_he thought, _"It's that idiot with the mohawk."_Sighing, Gwen walked over to the table, her palms resting gently on the corners. The boy didn't notice her presence at first; he was too busy yucking it up at some dig Party Boy made about that brunette girl. It was when their laughter died down that he noticed her, and his laughter died completely.

"Can I help you, Sweetheart?" He inquired, his browline raised at her somewhat suggestively. _"That's kind of hot."_ She thought immediately, but then looked down at the muffin in his possession and the thought was pushed to the back of her mind. (To most _definitely_ be revisited at a later date.)

"Uh yeah..." She said instead, surprised at how cool her tone was.

"Which would be?"

"You have my muffin." She pointed downward and they both looked. The boy smirked immediately.

"Really?" He asked. It seemed like a call to play, and Gwen did _not _want to play. She furrowed her brow.

"I'm not kidding." She scoffed. He only laughed, grabbing Party Boy's attention next to him.

"What's up, Dudette?" He asked loudly. In all honestly he sounded, well, drunk. (Gwen wouldn't deny that he was, either.)

"Look, I just want my muffin, so if you could just..." She didn't finish, instead she reached down for the muffin. Before she could get to it, the presumed owner snatched it from her grasp.

"Why?" He asked, now tossing the muffin in the air. "Elvis couldn't find you one this morning?" She felt her face redden immediately, out of embarrassment or rage she was uncertain. Instead, she reached for the muffin as it flew, a flustered attempt at making a quick escape. It failed. He had the precious food clasped in his hand again, his fingers forming what looked like a cage sprouting up from the bottom of it. It looked like he was going to do some stupid magic trick with it any second and make it "disappear." "Right, so why should I give you this muffin, Sunshine?" He asked, taunting her with it as he waved it in and out of her sight. She reached for it again, he fingers swiping the side of it this time. She answered as the crumbs she loosened began to crumble and fall into his palm.

"You aren't going to eat it!" She reasoned through clenched teeth.

"And?" He smirked again, "It's still mine. Possession is nine-tenths of the law, you know." He informed her.

"Did your parole officer teach you that?" She asked, reaching and failing again. He laughed, keeping his mouth set in an open-mouthed smile.

"What about yours?" He countered. She felt her teeth crush together even harder.

"I don't have one." She growled. Swipe, fail. He laughed, though it wasn't a real one.

"Oh, I know a parolee when I see one, Sister, and you've definitely been to juvie for something. Care to share?" He inquired. She felt herself redden again. _"How could he know about that? I haven't told anyone!" _To cover up her shock, she reached for the muffin again, but failed once more as the boy pulled it just out of her grasp. "I'm guessing Grand Theft Auto, no no, Shoplifting!" Okay, now she was angry, making sure her eyes were slitted and her knuckles were clenched tight, she reached as far over the table as she could, and almost got it this time. He pushed it mere millimeters out of her reach.

"Ugh! If I spill will you hand it over?" She groaned. Petty deal-making was all she could do at this point, as the stretch and reach method wasn't exactly working. He shrugged and cocked his head a bit to the side. Gwen grumbled as she folded her arms over her chest. "Tresspassing, Vandalism, and Possession." She admitted, her eyes at the ceiling so as to not have to look at his smirking face.

"Hm, quite a rap sheet you've got on you, Pasty. Do any time?"

"That wasn't part of the deal. and Pasty?" She asked, unimpressed with his stupid nicknames, no matter how endearing they may or may not be...

"Yeah, I forgot you name weeks ago...if I ever actually remembered it." He laughed a single beat before tossing the muffin again. She slammed her hand down on the table, making rock momentarily on its three legs.

"It's Gwen, and you said you'd hand it over!" She grabbed at it again. She was so close that time that she felt a cold cranberry poke into her finger.

"Gwen." He repeated, and Gwen thought it sounded really good coming from him. Her heart started to beat a tad faster..."Mine's Duncan."

"Well, Duncan, hand over the muffin!" She growled, reaching for it again, although she wasn't as lucky this time unfortunately. He smirked and leaned over the table, his face so close to hers that their noses were almost touching.

"Sorry, Sweetheart, but this muffin's mine, sorry to make you go through-"

"Fine." She cut him off, half her lips upturned in what seemed like a sad smile.

"What?" He asked.

"Whatever, it's just a stupid muffin. Sorry for messing with you." She shrugged.

"Uh...whatever. Come back anytime." He saluted her in a confused gesture as she walked away, muffin grasped tightly in her palms.

Her smile was so wide that she didn't even notice Duncan's cries;

"Pasty!"

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